Bound to You
by Ebony Rayne
Summary: There is a single moment where you say to yourself "Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever." Or at least, that's what Kurt had always thought. Full summary inside.


**A/N:** So, I as going through my copies of favourite stories ever on my hard drive and was re-reading _Attraction-Repulsion_ (or something similar to that because I have a horrible habit of changing stories' names if I think another fits better), which is a beautiful Severus/Harry fic. I think it's on hpfandom, and it tells the same story from each POV (if anyone would like to read it, I will gladly send it to you). I don't know who wrote it, so if any of you know, please share.

Anyway, I was reading it and arbitrarily wondered how their relationship would work if someone tossed in Kurt from Glee. Don't ask me where that thought came from, I don't know, I just know it won't go away.

So, I decided to try and write it out. Now, this isn't a continuance of that story or a re-write or anything like that, so I don't think it requires a disclaimer or permission; _Attraction-Repulsion_ is just the general tone of how I want their relationship to be like, for anyone's reference.

**Summary: **There is a single moment where you say to yourself "Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever." Or at least, that's what Kurt had always thought. Every time he'd thought of finally finding the guy for him, his imagination had been very specific. It turned out that everything he had ever thought about his perfect guy was wrong.

**Warnings: **Age-difference, threesome, (what's it called when three people are in a relationship? Trio? Triad? I'm gonna go with triad) triad, OOC-ness

I don't know anything about musicals. At all. I can barely name any, and that's because of a commercial selling a DVD compilation box set. So I will be as vague and yet still — probably, somehow — as incorrect as possible.

Thanks to the joy of writing a story featuring 3 males as the central characters, pronouns would get very confusing, meaning I'll have to just use names or annoying phrases like "the older teen" or "the other man". Sorry. I hate it, too.

LGBTQAA = Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender/sexual, Queer/Questioning (I've had different people tell me different things), Asexual, Allies (psst, I'm an Ally, which is why I included that last "A" in the first place.)

This isn't a song-fic. I just wanted a different break than the usual line or gibberish symbols. Song lyrics are just my thing right now.

**Pairings: **Severus(Irial)/Harry(Harlan)/Kurt

**Timelines: **Don't even bother. Just go with what's said. Kurt is 17, Harry is 19, Severus is 39.

**Disclaimer:** _Harry Potter _and _Glee _aren't mine. I don't know who owns _Glee_, but _Harry Potter_ belongs to the beautiful and talented JK Rowling. Love you, darling. Love_. _The song is _Bound to You_ (not mine) by Christina Aguilera in the movie _Burlesque_ (also not mine). I think the lyrics fit pretty well.

**Random Fact:** Adults average only one nightmare a year, but typically have 7 sexual fantasies a day.

_Sweet love, sweet love…_

_Trapped in your love_

_I've opened up_

_Unsure I could trust_

There is a single moment — a single moment in a single glance in a single lifetime — where you look at a person and say to yourself "Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever." Or at least, that's what Kurt had always thought.

Every time he'd thought of finally finding the guy for him, his imagination had been very specific; the guy would be older than him, and experienced, of course, so things wouldn't get awkward when Kurt had no idea what the hell he was doing, and he'd be tall — not Finn tall, but taller than Kurt — and he'd have dark eyes, perfect hair, perfect teeth, good sense in fashion, a good singing voice, a taste for musicals, and the patience to take things slow. Everything else, the small, annoying details — favourite colour, sense of humour, ability to dance — were less important, but the rest were deal breakers. For his one, true love, that is. He figured he could cut his first few boyfriends some slack, even if he hoped to jump straight to the "one, true love".

Always, his romantic little fantasy would play out like a musical, a play, a TV movie he could make references to even if he was the only one to understand them, and it turned out that everything he had ever thought about his perfect guy and finding him was wrong.

_My heart and I_

_Were buried in dust_

_Free me, free us…_

When they first met at the Lima Bean, he said his name was Harlan Evans. Harlan was nineteen, though his height — just an inch shorter than Kurt — made him look younger. His hair was a mess, making Kurt seriously contemplate whether or not he'd ever seen a brush, and he was wearing semi-baggy jeans and an over-sized red hoodie. His tennis shoes were scuffed, his glasses were slipping, his teeth were slightly crooked and only as white as one can make them without lasers and bleach. His eyes, though — his _eyes_ — were a deep, startling shade of green.

He was quiet and shy, but with a muted confidence to him that fascinated the young diva. Kurt decided to get to know this new resident and hopefully become friends before the Lima rumour mill hit him.

Kurt asked to sit with him and the two talked about nonsensical things for almost an hour. Kurt tried to convince Harlan of the beauty of musicals while Harlan attempted to explain American football to Kurt and why it was a wimpy version of rugby. Kurt told Harlan he'd look better in earth colours and Harlan told Kurt that his hair was too perfectly coiffed.

Eventually, they ran out of things to talk about, and Harlan stood and gathered his things. "It was nice meeting you. I hope I'll see you around."

"Won't I see you at school?" Kurt asked, confused.

Harlan grinned ruefully. "I'm 19; graduated already. Sorry."

"Well," Kurt tried to sound cheerful, "Lima's small. I'm sure we'll run into each other. I'm going shopping with some friends tomorrow. Maybe I'll see you at the mall."

Harlan smiled. "Maybe." And he exited the café.

_You're all I need_

_When I'm holding you tight_

_If you walk away_

_I will suffer tonight_

Kurt didn't see Harlan at the mall, or the Lima Bean, or around town. The next time Kurt saw Harlan was almost a week later when the older teen brought his motorcycle to Burt's garage for a tune-up.

Kurt snuck up behind Harlan, wishing he could change out of his generic grey coveralls. "Missed you at the mall." Harlan didn't even jump, which both disappointed and impressed Kurt.

"Sorry," Harlan said with a sheepish smile. "I don't like big crowds." He took in Kurt's appearance. "You work here?" He sounded a bit incredulous.

"Sometimes. My dad owns the place," Kurt explained.

"Ah." The following silence was awkward. For Kurt, at least. Harlan seemed perfectly content to look around at the broken cars and tools before turning back to Kurt and saying, "Well, I have a few hours to kill. Do you want to go to my house? My satellite package has a channel dedicated specifically to old musicals. Someone should use it."

"Sure," Kurt answered. "Just let me tell my dad."

It was at Harlan's house, during _See You in St. Louis_, that Kurt met Irial Prince. Irial looked to be in his thirties — late — with extreme colouring. His hair and eyes were a pitch, inky black while his skin was moon pale, bordering on sickly yet somehow not crossing that line. His cheeks were too sallow and his nose too large to be traditionally handsome, yet he had a halcyon grace and a throbbing power just beneath the surface that was undeniably attractive. He wore heavy black clothes that were perfectly pressed, not a speck of dust or dirt on them, and his shoulder-length hair was pulled back, only a few strands escaping to frame his face. When he spoke, it was with a rich, smooth, baritone voice through crooked, recently-whitened teeth. His words were deliberate, a bit slower than the usual speech pattern but having a stronger impact, even with the most insignificant statements, such as, "Who is this?"

"This is my new friend Kurt Hummel," Harlan answered. He turned to his guest. "Kurt, this is Irial Prince, my boyfriend."

_I found a man I can trust_

_And, boy, I believe in us_

_I am terrified to love for the first time_

It figured, Kurt thought, that the first gay man he ever met would already be taken. The irony both annoyed and amused him. Oh the plus side, he finally had someone to talk with. Mercedes was great — fantastic, really — but it was nice to finally discuss the issues with someone who was actually affected by them. He and Harlan discussed everything, with Irial making the random, snarky-yet-intellectual comment when he was around. He was apparently a very dedicated researcher and a misanthrope, so he would usually be in his study when Kurt visited.

When asked what Harlan was planning to do with his life, the older teen replied, "I'm independently wealthy. I don't have jobs; I have hobbies."

After they'd exhausted every LGBTQAA topic they could think of, they started again into the nonsensical things; TV, movies, music, sports. Kind of. Kurt mostly nodded and smiled while Harlan blathered on about rugby and football (soccer). He vaguely suspected Harlan was doing the same thing when he compared the musicals of the thirties to the musicals of the forties.

Kurt didn't tell anyone about his friendship with Harlan or his… acquaintanceship, he believed would be the word for it, with Irial. For some reason — with all the gossiping and the rumours and the assumptions made about the two — Kurt just wanted to keep them to himself. He didn't say anything when the Glee club debated about whether Irial was Harlan's dad or not, he never corrected anyone about Irial being a researcher when someone began a rumour about him being a spy, and he certainly kept his mouth shut about the two being boyfriends — or lovers, as the two apparently preferred to call it. Kurt already got enough crap from the town for being gay, Harlan and Irial just might be burned in effigy if Lima found out about the two's relationship.

_Can't you see that I'm bound in chains?_

_I've finally found my way_

_I am bound to you_

_I am bound to you_

It got to the point where Kurt didn't even bother knocking before entering their house. Harlan told him the only time he would ever need to knock was for the bathroom and Irial's study. Especially Irial's study. Kurt was even given a key, though only for emergencies.

As Harlan and Kurt grew more comfortable with each other, their topics of discussion grew more serious, more personal.

Once, Harlan asked; "If you could make someone love you, would you?" Kurt didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to say to a lot of the things Harlan had begun to talk about.

"Have you ever wished you were straight, for simplicity's sake?" _Yes._

"Do you believe in soul mates?" _Yes._

"I remember I was staying at my friend's house during Yule when I came out to his family. I'd packed my trunk the night before and hidden it in the hall closet. Did you ever do that?" _Yes._

It seemed the only thing he wouldn't talk about was how he and Irial became a couple. When Kurt asked how they'd met, Harlan simply said "I've known him since I was young" and left it at that.

The questions were strong and the answers awkward, but Kurt loved it. They made him think.

_So much, so young_

_I've faced on my own_

_Walls I built up_

_Became my home_

One day, the topic of choice was sex. Well, it would be more accurate to say that one day, the topic of sex was revisited. The first time Harlan had tried to bring it up, Kurt had blushed darker than he ever had and fled the house for three days.

To prevent it the second time, Harlan decided to play dirty and made his special, secret recipe brownies that he knew Kurt could never resist if you paid him. He made an especially large batch, served along with a rich, non-alcoholic wine Irial apparently made for special occasions.

Kurt found himself oddly flattered by how much trouble Harlan went through to get him to talk.

"Kurt, you are one of my best friends," Harlan began, "and you can't stay a blushing virgin forever. You can stay a virgin as long as you want, but you shouldn't be turning red and fleeing at the very mention of sex. You are 17. You should be cracking crude jokes that make straight people uncomfortable."

Kurt shoved his fingers in his ears. "_La, la-la-la, la, lalalala_ — "

"Kurt!" Harlan shouted, pulling his hands away from his face. "You can't avoid this forever. Would you rather have this talk with your father and make the both of you supremely uncomfortable?" Kurt stopped singing. That was low. "Now, would you rather get the best information you can from someone with first hand knowledge, or have one very _long _talk filled with stuttering and the overwhelming desire to flee, from a man who got all his information out of pamphlets from the free clinic?"

"You're evil."

"And you're not 12 anymore," Harlan retorted. "Now, sit down. This is going to be a long day."

_I'm strong and I'm sure_

_There's a fire in us_

_Sweet love, so pure_

_Damn Harlan to hell_, Kurt thought. After the embarrassing, mechanical part of their discussion — a memory Kurt soon hoped to block that began with "always use a condom" and ended with "seriously, if you value your health, _always…_ use… a condom" — he had gone into the emotional aspects, the aspects Kurt could find an actual, non-mortified interest in.

First he highlighted the negative, what could happen if you slept with the wrong person — especially for your first time; pain, rejection, the overwhelming feeling of being used if the guy was the type to leave immediately afterward.

It went on like that for a while and it was nothing Kurt hadn't already heard from high school gossip or television. He had a feeling that Harlan had no first-hand experience with sleeping with the wrong guy.

Then — as if to make sure he hadn't just scared Kurt out of ever having sex, something Kurt felt was the entire purpose of his graphic STD warnings (complete with pictures) — he spoke about the sensations one can experience when they've chosen the right person; warmth, fulfilment, ecstasy….

Harlan went into much more detail with this part of their discussion. He spoke of how sparks didn't erupt like during that first, perfect kiss, but how rather there was this slow burn engulfing your body, and how you feel you'll light on fire if you hold on any longer, but you can't bring yourself to stop. How the world didn't stop and suddenly feel right, it simply disappeared. How that slight pain that can never be avoided is welcomed, because it makes things more real — more significant — that sense of being connected so wholly and so perfectly to another person you loved so much that you trusted them with every insecurity you ever had.

Kurt hated to think it — and once again damned Harlan to hell for even putting such things in his head — but he really wanted that feeling. He wanted to trust like that.

_I catch my breath_

_We're just one beating heart_

_And I brace myself_

_Please don't tear this apart_

"How do you know?" Kurt asked one day after he had unwillingly received The Talk.

"Know what?" Harlan asked, setting his book aside. Kurt liked that, how he would ignore whatever he was doing to give his full attention to the person speaking to him, even if their talk only lasted a moment.

"Know when you're in love?" Kurt clarified.

"Well," Harlan paused. "It's different for everyone. With my two best friends, Ron and Mia, they knew when they realized the other one was the only person that could frustrate them to the point of ripping their hair out. With me, Irial was the only one who made me feel vulnerable. Only Irial made me consider my weaknesses and work to overcome them. He made me work to be stronger." Harlan had a soft smile on his face, his eyes distant as he remembered those early days of longing.

"It was slow going — it usually is, no matter what those romantic comedies will lead you to believe — but it was worth it. Everything we feel, everything we have together, was worth waiting for — worth the fretting and the insecurities and the pure terror that he wouldn't feel the same." He smiled wider. "It'll be different with you, how you know you're in love, but it'll be worth it just the same."

"There's a girl in my Glee club, Rachel," Kurt began. "She wants to be the only thing that makes her boyfriend Finn happy."

"That's selfish and ridiculous," Harlan responded immediately. "You should never want to be the only thing that can make your lover happy, you should want to be the only thing that can make him sad, because then he will always be happy, because you will never make him sad."

_I found a man I can trust_

_And, boy, I believe in us_

_I am terrified to love for the first time_

Love is a fickle, sneaky bitch, Kurt decided.

Like Harlan had said, it _was_ slow going, but it wasn't worth it.

He should have seen it coming — it was fairly obvious in hindsight, as it always must be — but in reality, it had snuck up on him, this feeling that had grown throughout their months of friendship.

How not to love his passion and kindness? His confidence and bravery? His loyalty and empathy and those sparkling, honest eyes? He wasn't afraid to say whatever came to mind; he asked the hard questions Kurt didn't even think to himself. He'd helped Kurt grow as a person throughout their friendship, and Kurt liked the changes. If he might rob _Wicked_ for a moment, he had been changed for good.

But Harlan was taken. Harlan was taken and madly in love, and not the teenage "we're gonna be together for_ever!_" love, but the deep, throbbing love built on mutual trust and respect, and Kurt couldn't bring himself to want to try and destroy that. It wasn't a shallow crush mistaken for the real thing like what Finn had had with Quinn, and even then, Kurt felt bad about trying to sabotage them. All he'd done was almost ruin Quinn's life.

Kurt couldn't stop being friends with Harlan — he absolutely refused — but he also couldn't take the chance that he would try something with him. Kurt knew what he would do; he would spend more time with Irial. He would see what Harlan saw, see how incredibly perfect they were together, see how much Irial loved Harlan and how good he was for him. Once he saw that, Kurt felt sure he would be able to control his feelings. Until then, he would just have to do his best to hide them.

'Love is kind' his ass.

_Can't you see that I'm bound in chains?_

_I've finally found my way_

_I am bound to you_

_I am bound to…_

Getting to know Irial was more difficult than he thought it would be — did Kurt mention Irial was a misanthrope? — but the man eventually gave in when he found out Kurt was fluent in French. It further helped that the two were fans of _Notre Dame de Paris_ the musical.

The two spent hours on end together, Irial teaching Kurt about ancient myths and science and Kurt teaching Irial about fashion and why Cher is a goddess. Far from being jealous, Harlan took every opportunity to nurture their friendship, often getting a conversation between them started and leaving after the two had gotten wrapped up in the topic. They would never notice until what was usually an hour later when they had something they wanted to ask Harlan's opinion on. He would always be in the kitchen, laying out cookies and looking at his watch to tease them about how long they'd forgotten his presence.

It took months — twice as long as it had taken with Harlan — but Kurt was soon as close with Irial as he was with the man's lover. Every Friday, Kurt and Irial would watch musicals and Irial would teach Kurt Latin. Every Saturday, Kurt and Harlan would exchange recipes and music files. Every Sunday, all three of them would sit down together, drink tea, and discuss their plans for the week. Sometimes Harlan would begin speaking Latin with Irial just to be annoying, so Kurt would start his own conversation with the oldest man in French.

Kurt loved their weekends together, except when Fate decided yet again that his life was a plaything and must therefore be screwed with as often as possible.

Kurt didn't think it was possible to love two people at once — he considered that slutty and tasteless, like Quinn and whoever she was cheating on/with at the moment — but he finally understood how it could happen when he fell in love with Irial Prince.

_Suddenly the moment's here_

_I embrace my fears_

_All that I have been carrying all these years_

Being in love with one of them, he could stand. Kurt would just focus on the feeling of being happy for the one he was just friends with rather than the hurt of watching the other kiss a man that wasn't him. Now, with his heart being a total Judas and screwing him over like this, it would just hurt, and Kurt had been hurt enough.

Kurt loved them, but he couldn't be around them anymore, so the next Friday that rolled around, he stayed at home. They both tried to call, but Kurt wouldn't answer. They left text messages and voicemails throughout the weekend, and Kurt masochistically read and listened to them all, but by the time Monday came around, he still hadn't gone to see the couple.

Mercedes Jones, one of three resident divas and only member of Glee club not to have stolen/slept with someone else's boyfriend/girlfriend, was strutting the halls in her new favourite red boots (and _God_, did they take forever to find) when she noticed someone she'd never seen before.

He looked awkward, and seemed horribly aware of how out-of-place he was. It wasn't his age — which couldn't be far from her own — or his height — only a few inches taller than Mercedes — or his clothes — a simple green sweater, some old blue jeans, and a pair of beat-up boots. There was something in the way he stood, the way he held himself, that made everyone pushing past him seem so… young.

Well, too old for his body or not, he looked lost and Mercedes was nothing if not helpful. Sometimes. If the person hadn't already proven to be an ass.

"Can I help you?" Mercedes asked him, only slightly surprised when he didn't jump.

"Hopefully," the man answered. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. We had weekend plans and he never showed up or called, so I'm a little worried."

"Why didn't you try his house?" Mercedes wondered.

"I've never actually been to his house," he admitted. "We've always spent time at mine." He gave a glance to the people around him, likely searching for his friend. "My name is Harlan, by the way. Harlan Evans."

"Oh, yeah. You moved here last year with that other guy. Irial, right? I'm Mercedes Jones," she told him, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it. Oddly enough, he smiled when he heard her name.

"Really?" He grinned wider when she nodded hesitantly. "Then you _can _help me. I'm looking for Kurt."

"Kurt?" Mercedes looked at him oddly. "He's never mentioned you."

Harlan cocked his head. "That's odd; he mentions you all the time, usually followed by the word 'fabulous'."

Mercedes grinned. "That sounds like Kurt. Well, we have Glee right now. I'll take you to the choir room." She gestured down the hall. _And if it turns out he's a weirdo stalker creep, there are six football players in Glee_, she thought cheerfully. "Right this way."

Was he doing the right thing? A clean break might be what was best for him — maybe; the jury was still out on that one — but how fair was it to just cut Harlan and Irial off with no warning or explanation? Maybe he should give them a call. Or send a text. Or wait a while and hope his feelings go away then try to repair their friendships after. Yes, that last one sounded good.

"Kurt." He looked up at the sound of his name and found Mercedes in the doorway… with Harlan. Damn. "This guy says his name is Harlan and he knows you." He heard the question in her tone.

"Yeah, I know him." Kurt didn't take his eyes off the figure standing gauchely behind his friend. "What are you doing here? You hate crowds."

"You were ignoring mine and Irial's messages," Harlan said. "You weren't at your dad's garage or the mall or the Lima Bean. We got worried. You never miss your Friday Latin lessons, or our Saturday recipes exchange, or Sunday tea. What happened?"

Kurt felt instantly guilty. "That's what you've been doing every weekend?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah…" Kurt trailed off. "It's kind of a long story. That I don't want to get into. Because this club is nosy." All the Gleeks conspicuously began to glance around the room, acting for all the world as if they hadn't been listening with rapt attention since Mercedes had first introduced their surprise guest.

Harlan turned to Mr. Schuester, who was the only one polite enough to pretend to be doing work. "I'll buy Glee new uniforms if you pretend Kurt's sick and let me steal him for the day."

"Kurt can't just leave," Mr. S protested.

"And a new bus."

"His education — "

"I'll fly everyone to New York for the summer."

"For the love of God, say yes!" Rachel shouted, no longer able to stay silent. Kurt was impressed she lasted so long.

"Kurt?" Mr. Schue turned to the object of their discussion.

"Well, he can certainly afford it," Kurt said. Mr. Schue continued to stare at him. Damn it, but they did deserve an explanation. Kurt let out a heavy sigh. "Please say yes."

"Fine."

_Will I risk it all?_

_Come so far just to fall?_

_Fall_

"Silly Kurt," Harlan whispered into the younger man's hair. "You should know by now just to talk to us."

"Oh, because we're shining examples of communication," Irial commented dryly from Kurt's other side. "It took over a year for you to tell me how you felt."

"At least I did. You were too scared," Harlan pointed out. "And you didn't believe me."

"Let's play the quiet game," Kurt suggested.

"Fun killer."

Kurt felt ridiculous for avoiding the two of them, but really, who could've foreseen this outcome?

"**Kurt," Harlan said as he scooted closer to the younger teen, "have you ever heard of a triad?"**

"**Isn't that a mobster term?" Kurt asked obliviously.**

**Irial chuckled. "No. It's when three people enter into a committed, binogamous relationship."**

"**Stop making up words," Harlan ordered him.**

"**It's a good word."**

"**Wait, wait, wait," Kurt said, holding his hands up for silence. "So a 'triad' is a relationship, but with three people in it?"**

"**Exactly," Irial agreed.**

**Kurt forced himself to look confused, refusing to get his hopes up. "So you're both saying this because…?"**

"**We love you too."**

_Triads are fabulous,_ Kurt decided. He didn't know why more people didn't have them. Maybe he would bring up the idea for Finn, Quinn, and Rachel. But then, Quinn and Rachel would have to stop hating each other. Pity; it would cut down on a lot of the drama in Glee.

Then again, it would also involve explaining how he knew about triads. He tells Glee, Glee includes Finn, Finn is incapable of keeping secrets from his father, Burt Hummel finds out….

No, Kurt would keep this to himself for a while. It was no one else's business.

_O-o-oh_

_I can trust_

_And, boy, I believe in us_

_I am terrified to love for the first time_

When they first made love, their names were Harry Potter and Severus Snape. Harry was 20 and Severus was 40; they were both heroes from a war they were guilted into fighting, both lovers who found it in themselves to make room for one more person in their broken little home.

Kurt was 18, having finally turned old enough to make the change from boyfriend to lover. It was torture, waiting, knowing that when he left, Harry and Severus would come together in a way he wasn't allowed.

He had been afraid — everyone was their first time — but he had also been ready, and it was everything he'd ever imagined, everything Harry had told him those many months ago, back when he called him Harlan and fled at the very mention of anything beyond kissing.

Not everyone was as happy about his relationship as he was; his father still didn't let his lovers in the house and tried his very hardest to keep Kurt too busy to see them, Finn stuttered and changed the subject every time they were brought up, Quinn had stopped talking to his completely. The only people who seemed to take it in stride were Santana, Brittney, Puck, and Lauren. Even Mercedes and Tina took a while to get used to it. He'd kind of expected that of Mercedes, but Tina was a surprise.

A kiss to the top of his head broke Kurt out of his thoughts. "Get changed, Kurt. Ron and Hermione will be here soon."

Kurt looked up at where Harry stood, his forearms propped on the back of the couch. "I can't believe I'm finally meeting your friends."

"I can't believe it took them this long to accept the fact that you weren't going to leave me for that clinging Weasley girl," Severus commented wirily as he entered the room, replacing his book on the shelf and stealing one of the fudge squares Harry had set out.

"In all fairness, they were almost over it when they found out I was also with a 17 year old," Harry pointed out. "Then they thought I was leaving you for the 17 year old and then found out that I wasn't and it just started all over again."

"Pathetic."

"It wouldn't kill you to make an effort, Severus."

"Yes, it would."

Kurt tuned out the sound of them bickering as he'd learned to do and sunk back into his thoughts. His father may not like it and his friends may not like it and Harry's friends may not like it, but he had a feeling then three of them were going to last, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

He would never admit it, but Harry was right. Everything — the worries and the fretting and even those horrible, horrible weeks when he loved them and thought they could never love him back — was worth waiting for. _They_ were worth waiting for.

But thank Gaga he was through waiting.

_Can't you see that I'm bound in chains?_

_And finally found my way_

_I am bound to you_

_I am, ooh, I am_

_I'm bound to you_

**AN:** Since it was written from Kurt's POV (except that one part from Mercedes's), I'm hoping you guys were able to just assume that Harry and Severus changed their names to escape the press. They're war heroes who used to be student-teacher and are now dating. Enter media circus. I changed Hermione to Mia because Hermione is too strange a name and thanks to the wonder of the internet, it would just take Kurt mentioning her on Facebook for them to be found. I didn't change Ron's name because it's super common.

Also, I totally made up the word "binogomous". Someone submit that shit to Urban Dictionary.

Anyway, please review. Tell me how weird this story is or whatever. I don't drink, so I need reviews to feel happy, and a smile is the best thing you can give a person. So don't be stingy, make me smile!


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